My New Brother's an Assassin
by The Official Girl Wonder
Summary: Dick Grayson meets Bruce's biological son, Damian. The boys will learn to be brothers or kill each other trying. Meanwhile, Damian has a secret that may cost Dick his life. AU: Dick and Damian are both fourteen years old.
1. Chapter 1

**I got this idea after reading a Young Justice anon prompt by _unboundpen_. This story strays from the prompt though (other than the fact that it's under the Batman category):**

**Dick and Damian are the same age - both teenagers. This will be fun...**

**Disclaimer: I own no Batman.**

Fourteen-year old Dick Grayson tried to read the book in his hands. Which book was it? Did it matter? No, it didn't. He saw the words, but couldn't make sense out of them. There was too much on his mind.

_Two Days Earlier_

"_Dick…" Bruce started, acknowledging the boy for the first time since he'd entered the study._

"_Yeah?" Dick had asked, wondering why his guardian had seemed so stressed for the past week._

"_I…Dick, you know I care about you, right?"_

_Dick was nearly shocked to hear his mentor say that. He had always known, but…Bruce was actually expressing his feelings?_

_The teenager gulped and straightened up a bit, hoping that nothing too serious had happened to induce such bizarre behavior from the man in front of him._

"_Yeah, of course I know that…Are you okay?"_

"_Yes, I just…I found out last week…Dick, I wanted to tell you sooner…"_

_Dick, unable to stand another minute of not knowing what was tormenting the man he considered a surrogate father, suddenly said, "Bruce, please just tell me what's going on."_

_Bruce sighed, and looked at the ground unable to meet Dick's eyes for a moment. When he looked back up, Dick was frightened by what he saw in the man's usually expressionless face. He saw regret._

"_You have a brother."_

_Dick tried to cover his confusion with laughter. "Um, Bruce? I'm pretty sure I'm an only child. I mean I think I would know if my parents-"_

"_Not a biological brother," Bruce interrupted, appearing even more tired than before._

_Dick waited for an explanation._

"_Dick, I have a son."_

Present

Dick had been shocked, but thought he did a good enough job of hiding his emotions at the moment.

Bruce had a son…and today was the day when they would meet him.

Dick had a brother…and he was freaking out just a bit.

**Dun dun dun!**

**Please review.**


	2. Chapter 2

Bruce sat alone in his study in Wayne Manor.

How could he have let this happen?

He probably should have been more careful around Talia al Ghul.

He probably should have used protection.

He probably should have suspected that something like this would happen sooner or later and investigated to see if it ever did.

He definitely should have known before now.

However, those were all minor worries in his mind at the moment. He didn't really regret loving Talia. Yes, he should have been careful, but did he truly regret having a son?

Actually, he was anxious to meet the young man. Talia had told him that the boy was about Dick's age.

Was his son anything like Bruce?

Could he forgive Bruce for not being in his life until now?

Would he get along with Dick?

At this thought, Bruce remembered his only two real regrets.

He could tell that Dick had been trying to hide his emotions when he told him the news. However, as Batman, he saw through the façade and noticed Dick's expressions of hurt, confusion, and even...betrayal?

Dick was, in all ways except biological relation, his son. How did his _son_ feel about all of this? Bruce knew that Dick was insecure about his place in Bruce's life. No matter how many times he'd been told otherwise, the boy still considered himself some kind of charity case who could be sent to an orphanage if he did something wrong. Bruce had never wanted Dick to feel that way. He should have shielded Dick a bit more. He never should have let him hear the rumors that Gotham's socialites were spreading about him.

Great, that was another regret for his list.

However, regarding this situation, his second regret regarded the other boy…his other son.

How could he not have anticipated the consequences of that night with Talia?

How could he not have known about his teenage son?

How had the boy been raised?

How on Earth could he have allowed his child to be raised by an assassin…possibly multiple assassins?

Damian…That was the boy's name, Bruce recalled.

_Damian, I'm sorry…Dick, I'm sorry…_

_I haven't been much of a father to either of you._

**What do you think so far?**

**REVIEW! You know you want to.**


	3. Chapter 3

"Remember why you are here," advised Talia al Ghul as she stood at the gate to Wayne Manor.

Beside her stood a boy who looked to be in his early teens. He wore a formal suit in addition to an impassive stare that he directed towards the building.

"Of course, Mother," he responded nonchalantly.

"Do not allow that Grayson child to get in your way," Talia continued, "and do not allow anyone to influence you. You are a Wayne, but first and foremost, you are an al Ghul. Your loyalty lies with those who raised you."

"Yes, Mother,"

"Good. Make me proud, and you will soon come home."

Feeling that that was a sufficient goodbye, she turned and got into a limo. The car left a moment later, leaving Damian standing at the gate.

"Yes," Damian whispered, "I will make both you and my grandfather proud, Mother."

He began to walk up the hill to Wayne Manor.

* * *

><p>Dick didn't know why he was so upset.<p>

_This is a good thing, right? I have a brother! It'll be cool to have another kid around the Manor, especially when Bruce is chewing me out for stuff. Then, he can have my back. Yeah, having a brother should be awesome…So, why am I worried?_

He sighed and put the book down, finally realizing that he wasn't actually reading it.

_I wonder if he's thinking the same about me right now…Hey, Bruce never even told me his name!_

* * *

><p>Damian had reached the top of the hill and stepped onto the porch of Wayne Manor, but for some reason, he just stood there.<p>

_Ring the stupid bell! What are you waiting for?_

Damian was on the verge of panicking because he felt something that he couldn't remember feeling before in his life.

Anxious…Nervous…Afraid?

_This is ridiculous! I am an al Ghul! I fear nothing! WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?_

He wanted to scream, but still had enough dignity not to.

_What is making me feel this way? I simply need to ring the doorbell, wait for someone to answer me, walk inside, greet the inhabitants of this house, and establish myself among them. I cannot possibly be afraid of these people. It is simply my father, his butler, and that boy…Grayson or whatever his name was-_

Damian stopped. _His father…_

His mother had told him little about his father. She had told him that he was a brave man…a well-respected man…She said that he and his father looked alike.

However, Damian had never met Bruce Wayne. He had always been taught to respect his elders and to live up to his family name. Now, he had two names to live up to: that of al Ghul and that of Wayne.

_I…What if my father does not find me a worthy successor? What if I disappoint my mother here and she does not wish to take me back?_

Damian began to tremble. He had never felt this way before and he wanted it to **stop**, but he didn't know how to quell his emotions.

_Also, what about that Grayson boy? He is about my age…My mother said that he looks somewhat like my father as well. We have almost equivalent situations…No, wait, he has an advantage already. He has lived with my father for six years._

In moments, Damian went from insecure teenager to practical tactician.

_Grayson's advantages: He and my father already know each other…His past involves tragedy, so my father is likely to pity him._

_My advantages: I am my father's biological son, and therefore I am his true heir…I cannot think of any more, but that reason should outweigh both of Grayson's._

_I am his superior._

_My father must love me more._

_Grayson is my enemy and I must not allow him to gain the upper hand._

Then, he remembered his mother's words.

_I must not allow him to distract me from my mission._

_I am ready._

Without another thought, Damian rang the doorbell.

**A/N: So, feeling the suspense yet?**

**Review, por favor!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I own neither Batman nor the word "buttle."**

_Ding-Dong…_

Alfred walked over to the front door and opened it.

Before him stood teenage boy, about Dick's height, with short spiky black hair and icy blue eyes. He was dressed in a suit and carried a steel case that Alfred supposed had his possessions in it.

When the door first opened, the boy had avoided Alfred's eyes, but then abruptly met them. He regarded the old man with a passive glare.

"Ah," Alfred said, choosing to ignore the teenager's expression, "You must be Master Damian. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, young man."

_So, this man already calls me Master. Good. It seems as though he knows his place._

"Yes," Damian responded with a curt nod, "and you would be…?

"Alfred Pennyworth, sir. I am the butler of the Manor."

"So, out of curiosity, just how do you serve my father?" Damian asked, not understanding why his father would employ this man who looked like he should already be in retirement.

"I buttle, sir."

"Which means what?"

"The butler is the head of the kitchen and dining room. I keep everything tidy."

"Ah, I see…" Damian said. _He is a strange old man._

"Allow me to introduce you to Master Bruce and Master Dick."

"Of course," Damian replied. He still found Alfred strange, but wanted to avoid the awkwardness of introducing himself to his father.

* * *

><p>Bruce had known when Damian arrived but had decided to wait until Alfred brought the boy into his study.<p>

As he had anticipated, he soon heard a knock at the door.

"Come in," he called.

The door opened and Bruce tried not to make it obvious that he was holding his breath.

After a moment's hesitation, a boy walked into the room followed by Alfred.

Bruce could have sworn he was looking at one of his high school pictures come to life.

Damian had the same black hair, the same cold blue eyes, and even the same scowl. It was slightly unnerving.

They simply regarded each other for a long moment.

Then, Damian cleared his throat and looked straight into Bruce's eyes, saying, "My name is Damian Wayne."

"I know," Bruce replied, standing and walking around the desk to stand in front of the boy.

He appeared calm, but his mind was racing.

_What now? I should probably hug him, right? Uh…_

Seeing that neither Bruce nor Damian was a tactile person, Alfred decided to save the day.

"Master Bruce, I believe that Master Dick will be eager to meet Master Damian."

_Dick? _Damian thought, _I thought his first name was Richard._

"Oh, of course," Bruce said, interrupting Damian's thoughts. He called upstairs, "Dick, please come down here."

The three waited as they heard soft footsteps descend the stairs.

_It is time to analyze my competition…His footfalls are softer than those of the average person. Perhaps he enjoys sneaking up on people? Then again, father's footsteps were unusually light as well. I wonder why that is._

The door opened to reveal a boy who could actually pass as Damian's brother while still looking extremely different.

They were about the same height. They both had black hair and blue eyes. Both of them also had surprisingly well-toned muscles.

However, Dick's hair was longer and messier, stopping just short of his shoulders. Damian's, though spiked, looked like it had been precisely measured to look as neat as it did.

Their eyes were different too. Instead of the piercing, icy blue of Bruce and Damian's irises, Dick's eyes sported a deeper, brighter shade.

To Dick's delight, Damian was about half an inch shorter.

Of course, those were the obvious physical characteristics. A trained eye could see how Damian's tense muscles hinted some amount of hostility while Dick's posture was more open and relaxed.

Damian seemed to scrutinize everything and everyone he looked at while Dick could barely stand still and kept directing his attention at something new every two seconds.

_Wow_, Dick thought, _He looks almost exactly like Bruce. Thank goodness I'm not the short one, though._

_Hm…_thought Damian, _he does not appear to be much of a threat. It seems that I have little to worry about._

"Damian," Bruce started, "This is Dick Grayson, my ward. Dick, this is Damian…my son." Both boys caught the hesitation. "Damian will be staying with us for the time being. He'll be across from your room, Dick." Dick nodded. "He'll also be attending your school. You're the same age, so you're likely to have some classes together. I'm sure you two will get along. We'll leave you to get acquainted."

With that, Bruce hurriedly excused himself as Alfred carried Damian's suitcase away.

**A/N: That whole, "I'm a butler and I buttle" thing was a quote from Clue. I really need to start coming up with my own original words…**

**So…Dick, Dami, I hope you get along and don't hurt each other. Will you?**

**Dick: Hey, how are we supposed to know? You're writing the story.**

**Damian: I know.**

**Dick: You do?**

**Damian: Yes, but I will leave you in suspense until later chapters.**

**Dick: What? That's no fair!**

**No, it's not fair, but I felt like this chapter should end here, so until next time!**

**REVIEW…or I will send Damian after you.**

**Dick: What's so bad about sending Damian after them?**

**Obvious!**

**Dick: No, I just met him.**

**Oh, yeah…**

**Dick: Do you know what she's talking about?**

**Damian: I have no idea…(Evil smile)**

**Dick:…You both scare me.**

**Anyway, Review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Heh, heh...Sorry about the wait. It's not much, but I've been busy.**

**Disclaimer: Hey! I just got the rights to Batman! What? I didn't? It was a mistake? Okay, maybe next time...**

The two stood there for a moment.

Then, Dick extended his hand and said, "Uh, nice to meet you, Damian. I'm Dick, as you already know…Welcome to Wayne Manor."

Dick's hand remained outstretched and the smile stayed on his face, but Damian didn't return the gesture.

Instead, he looked Dick up and down and scoffed.

Dick's smile faded and he uncertainly dropped his hand.

"So, Grayson, tell me. What possibly could have driven my father to accept you into his home?"

_Grayson?_ Dick thought.

Taken aback, Dick tried to avoid the question. "Um, you know, you can call me Dick if you want."

"I thought that your name was Richard."

"Yeah, it is, but Dick's short for Richard. Everyone calls me Dick, and I prefer it that way."

Damian pretended to consider it, and then smirked. "No, I believe I will keep it formal, _Grayson._"

_He's a little odd,_ Dick thought.

"…Okaaay…So, Damian…Uh…What's your favorite color?"

"My what?"

"Your favorite color."

_What a strange question._

"I do not have one."

"Err…favorite animal?"

Damian shot a glare that could've frozen Vesuvius and saved Pompeii.

_Man, this kid is too much like Bruce for comfort._

"Hey, I'm just trying to make conversation here," Dick said.

"Why do you want to do that?" Damian appeared genuinely curious.

"Uh…because it's friendly?"

"Then, why must you attempt to be friendly?"

"Huh?"

"Your guise of cordiality is quite unnecessary."

"It's not a guise, man. Chill out."

"Hah! You are so obvious! You just want me to let my guard down."

"…What on Earth are you talking about?"

At that moment, Alfred reentered the room to find two boys glaring at each other.

He cleared his throat and said, "Master Damian, your room is ready."

Damian left the room, but not before sneering at Dick.

"Master Dick, is something the matter?"

Dick sighed and shook his head.

"No Alfred, but…He's weird. How long is he staying again?"

"For an indefinite amount of time, sir. You may want to ask Master Bruce that question."

Dick nodded, but had no intention of asking Bruce. He didn't want to tell his guardian that his son was already getting on his nerves.

**A/N: Review?**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Woo! There's a new Young Justice tomorrow! I'm so happy! In celebration, I'm trying to update/upload as many stories as I can this weekend...and work on my English essay…**

**Disclaimer:**

**Dick: The Girl Wonder doesn't own us.**

**Damian: Thankfully.**

**Me: What's that supposed to mean?**

**Damian: I hate you.**

**Me: Yeah? Well, that's your problem.**

**Dick: Okay, can we start the story?**

**Me: As soon as Damian stops trolling me.**

**Dick: No! We're starting now!**

**Me: But-**

**Dick: NOW!**

**Me: Fine, Dick. FINE.**

"Damian," Dick called, knocking on his new "brother's" bedroom door, "Come and get breakfast. We're going to be late for school if you take too long."

"Grayson, I am perfectly capable of managing my own schedule," Damian answered through the door, "Leave me be."

_Again with the "Grayson" stuff,_ thought Dick.

"Well, fine, but I'm just warning you: I'll take all the bacon if you don't get downstairs."

With that, Dick turned and descended the stairs.

In his room, Damian smirked.

_Tt. He thinks that he can command me simply because he has lived here longer. My father owns this house, and therefore it is more my home than Grayson's. He is the guest and I am in charge of him._

Damian finished pulling on his black dress shoes and started on his tie.

_Whoever designed this uniform should be hanged._

"Damian," Bruce called from downstairs, "You'll be late for school if you don't hurry up."

"Yes, father," Damian called back immediately.

In the kitchen, Dick did a double take.

_Oh, so he listens when Bruce says it, but not when I do…Wait a second. "Yes, father"? What American kid calls his dad "father"? I mean, I know he just met Bruce, but still. He's so overly formal._

Having that in mind, Dick walked over to Bruce, who stood in the hallway fixing his hair.

"Hey, Bruce?"

Bruce turned to the boy and acknowledged him with a nod.

"Good morning, Dick."

"Good morning…Um…Where's Damian from?"

"Where'd that question come from?" Bruce inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, nowhere," Dick replied with a hand behind his neck, "I was just wondering why he's so formal all the time. He doesn't really sound like he grew up in America."

Bruce nodded, though he hadn't exactly noticed the extent of Damian's formality. He had mostly avoided the boy the previous night.

"Damian was raised by his mother in the Middle East," he answered.

"Oh, um, okay, Bruce…Sorry for bugging you about it. I'm going back to the kitchen."

Bruce frowned. Was something bothering Dick? Before he could find out, Dick walked back to the kitchen, and Damian came downstairs. Damian nodded at Bruce in greeting before following Dick.

Bruce shook his head. _Damian is pretty formal, I guess. Why hadn't I noticed that before?_

In the kitchen, Dick and Damian heard the front door close behind Bruce. After they were sure that he was gone, they turned to each other.

"Allow me to inform you of something, Grayson," started Damian, "You are not in charge of me."

Dick glared and said, "I'm not trying to be in charge of you. I'm trying to be your friend, and you're being constantly jerkish."

"Jerkish is not a word."

"Does it matter?" Dick asked, rubbing his temples. He sighed and looked back at Damian, who had sat down and started on his breakfast. Dick sat across from him and started eating as well. They remained silent for a few moments, until Dick spoke again.

"Okay, maybe we need some rules. One: You have to stop being so hostile. Two: I'm not your enemy. Three: Quit calling me Grayson because my name is Dick…Well, uh…Grayson's my name too, but you know what I mean!"

"Oh, but your wrong, _Grayson_," Damian responded, smiling, "You are my enemy here, which is why I must be somewhat hostile."

"Why?" Dick asked, genuinely confused, "What did I ever do to you?"

"You have not done anything, but you are standing in my way."

"In your way of what?"

Damian quietly cursed in Arabic. He wasn't supposed to give away any information. "That is none of your concern," he said.

Dick raised an eyebrow. "Did you just curse in Arabic?"

"No,"

"Yes, you did. You called me a 'nosy son of a-'"

"Master Dick, I do hope you mean to end that with an appropriate noun," stated Alfred, entering the kitchen with a disapproving countenance.

"-businesswoman," Dick finished, trying to ignore Damian's smirk.

"A commendable choice, Young Master. Now chop, chop, or the two of you will be late," the elderly man said, leaving the room.

"A commendable choice indeed," muttered Damian.

"Hey," said Dick, standing from his chair, "Don't mock Alfred."

"I do not see the problem with doing so. He is just an old man."

"Alfred's the coolest old man you'll ever meet," Dick proclaimed, "and, more importantly, he's family."

"Tt. Just as you and I are family?"

"Exactly…Hey, that was sarcasm, wasn't it?"

"Amazing, Grayson. You actually possess more intelligence than a three-year old."

"…Hey, is that why you've been acting like this? Because you're set on proving that we're not family?"

It wasn't the first time that Dick would do this, and Damian would someday curse Dick's ability to read people.

"I mean," Dick continued, "I honestly don't see you as family either. Not yet, anyway…But why can't you let me just try to be your friend?"

_Tt. Friends…right. Someone of my status requires no friends._

"…You are pathetic," Damian voiced, "Listen closely: I. Do. Not. Need. Any. Friends."

Damian got up and left Dick in disappointed silence.

_So much for that method,_ Dick thought.

**I pull the "I'm going to eat all of the bacon," trick all the time with my brother. He usually comes running downstairs at superhuman speed. Too bad it doesn't work with Dami…**

**Reviewing is fun! (This is NOT a subliminal message…Heh, heh…)**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I had so much fun writing this chapter. I wouldn't be getting anywhere if I didn't give you a fight scene sooner or later.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman, or any of its characters. I own the awesome plot filled with the epic struggles of Dick Grayson and Damian Wayne, but I don't own the comics…Okay, fine…I'll admit that my story isn't **_**that**_** epic, but I wanted a funny disclaimer.**

"Damian-"

"Have you no sense at all? Stop talking to me!"

The two boys stood among the other students in the courtyard of Gotham Academy. Alfred had just dropped them off, and the bell hadn't rung yet.

"Eh, it's pointless to try to keep me from talking," Dick responded with a shrug, "Just ask Bruce. I just want to warn you-"

"What could _you_ possibly need to warn me about?"

"Well, if you would stop cutting me off-"

"Yo, Grayson!"

Dick groaned, and Damian said, "It seems that I am not the only one who calls you by your last name."

Dick ignored him and turned to face the sixteen-year old brute walking toward them.

"Who is that?" Damian asked.

"I don't even remember his name, but he and his idiot friends are a major headache for everyone else on campus," Dick replied.

"Grayson! I'm talking to you, twerp! You got my essay done?"

_His essay?_ Damian thought. _Grayson's so much weaker than I thought if he does the work of others for them. _

"No," said Dick, to both the bully's and Damian's surprise.

"No?" the large boy repeated, grabbing Dick's shirt collar. "You said you'd do it!"

"Yeah, to teach you a lesson about getting smaller kids to do your work for you. Have fun getting an F."

The sixteen-year old looked as though he would have a conniption. Instead, he tightened his grip on Dick's shirt and growled at the younger boy. Dick didn't seem at all intimidated. In fact, he didn't even blink.

As the stare-down continued, with other kids coming closer to get in on the action, Damian found himself thinking, _Grayson's an idiot to challenge someone so obviously stronger than he is. That brute could tear him apart…but deceiving him in order to put that moron in his place…It's still incredibly stupid, but…Grayson may not be as completely worthless as I thought._

"Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

Damian was brought out of his thoughts by the chanting of other students around him. He saw the bully smile and curl his free hand into a fist.

_I will not explain to my father why his "ward" came home injured, and why I did not assist. Mother told me that Father lives by a code of honor, did she not?_

Dick closed his eyes, waiting for a hit that never came. He opened them to see Damian standing in front of him, holding the bully's fist about five inches from Dick's face.

While the sixteen year-old boy's eyes widened in shock, Damian turned slightly and said, "Grayson, you are more pitiful than I thought. Why would you let this feckless ape push you around?"

The "feckless ape" realized that Damian had insulted him, and shouted, "What did you just call me? Who do you think you are?"

"Well," Damian responded, turning back around, "If you must have it repeated, I called you a 'feckless ape'."

Damian suddenly released the older boy's hand, only to bring his knee up an instant later and kick the boy in the jaw. The bully stumbled back, and fell onto the ground in shock.

"To answer your second query," Damian continued, "I am Damian Wayne, of the house of al Ghul."

_Al Ghul?_ Dick thought, eyes widening. _Did he just say, "the house of al Ghul"?_

Before Dick could dwell on it further, the boy on the ground yelled, "Get him!"

Eight other fairly large boys approached Dick and Damian, which left both thinking, _Just how many followers does this loser have?_

"I'll take them," they both said simultaneously, and then turned to each other in confusion.

"You will take them?" Damian asked, "You could not defend yourself moments ago."

"It's not that I can't defend myself," Dick responded, "I just didn't want to waste energy on that deadbeat."

"So, you would have let him hit you?" Damian asked incredulously.

"No, I just…um…"

"Admit it, Grayson. You would not have been able to stop him."

"Damian, I have some mad skills. I could've stopped him."

"Hey!" one of the approaching bullies said, "You two twerps going to fight, or should we just come over there and pound some sense into you?"

To everyone's amusement except that of the boy speaking, Dick and Damian ignored him in favor of their current debate.

"Please, Grayson. You couldn't fight someone's grandmother."

Dick placed his hand on his chest in mock appallment. "Why would I ever hurt someone's grandmother?"

"You know what I mean, Grayson. You will have to prove yourself before I believe that you can fight."

"Alright," Dick said, smiling, "I'll prove myself now. There are eight of them. You take four first. Then, I'll take four. Whoever pulls off the best fight sequence wins."

"…That is extremely juvenile…I accept."

**A/N: I think I'll have fun writing the next chapter, too! Awesomeness will ensue.**

**rEvIeW…Oops, I mean…ReViEw…I mean…REVIEW PLEASE!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Did I neglect to update for over a month? Heh heh…Really? That long?**

**Don't kill me!**

**Anyway, you can thank my teachers for this chapter. I got bored during all of their lectures, and the next thing I knew, BAM! Writer's Block demolished!**

**Disclaimer:**

**Me: Hey, guys! I own you now!**

**Dick and Damian together: NO, YOU DON'T.**

**Me: Well, fine…but I do own a Batman t-shirt now. My mom got it for me recently. **

"That is extremely juvenile…I accept."

Smiling mischievously, Dick and Damian turned to face their opposition: eight well-built teenage boys, each of whom looked ready to crush the fourteen-year olds.

Damian slowly raised his hand, cupped it, and moved his fingers back and forth, giving the universal signal for "Come and get me."

Annoyed, all eight boys charged Damian, and Dick stepped aside with an amused smirk on his face.

_This should be interesting, _Dick thought. _I'll step in to help him when things get rough._

To Dick's surprise however, Damian didn't even flinch. Not a hair on his head moved until one guy was half a foot away from him. That was when the chaotic fun began.

Damian dropped to the ground, and snapped out a leg to sweep-kick the boy, who landed on the ground as another came from behind Damian.

Elbow strike to the solar plexus. That kid went down, clutching his torso.

Someone came at Damian from either side. He flipped onto his hands and kicked both of their heads away in what resembled an upside-down split.

Damian felt the pressure build in his hands and propelled himself backwards through the air. He felt his feet make purchase on the chest of the boy who'd recovered from his sweep-kick. He heard the kid choke on his own breath and fall onto the ground.

Only then did Damian's conscious thoughts replace his instincts, allowing him to look around.

One boy lay gasping on the ground. Another was still on his knees, tightly clutching his chest. The other two were unconscious, with almost identical bruises on opposite sides of their heads. None had been able to touch Damian.

The whole schoolyard was silent.

Dead silent.

_Fear,_ thought Damian, smirking as he saw the bystanders' faces. _Good. It is right of them to fear me._

He heard clapping, and Damian's smile faded. He turned to see Dick lightly applauding, with that amused smile never leaving his face. It annoyed Damian.

"Why do you look so amused," the spiky-haired boy asked in his slight Arabic accent, "Surely, you cannot do better."

"Wanna bet?" Dick asked, but not two seconds after he said it, a teacher jogged out of the building.

"Mr. Grayson!" called the tall man with short brown hair and square-rimmed glasses. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked in a stern voice that let one know that he was everyone's least favorite instructor.

Dick groaned, and turned to face him, "Um, hey, Mr. Nye," he said, chuckling nervously.

"Mr. Grayson, do you care to explain why you've injured four of your classmates?"

"What?" said Dick, feigning cluelessness, "I didn't do anything." _Yet,_ he mentally added.

"Oh, really?" Mr. Nye raised an eyebrow at Dick, and Dick took notice of his own posture for the first time.

He had subconsciously slipped into a rather obvious fighting stance as soon as he'd said, "Wanna bet?"

_Well that looks incriminating._

He straightened up immediately and flashed his best innocent smile, saying, "Sir, I didn't do it. It was-"

He stopped himself short, looking around and searching the yard for Damian, who had conveniently fled the scene of the crime.

"It was who, Mr. Grayson?" Nye asked in a slightly mocking tone.

"Damian Wayne,"

"Blaming the new student, are we? And your brother no less. I would expect much better conduct from you."

Before Dick could respond that Damian _wasn't_ his brother, said boy ran up to them asking, "Grayson, why did you do that?" with an innocent face that actually rivaled Dick's.

**Dami, you evil little boy!**

**Review, friends!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: You think I own Batman? Sure, let's go with that…**

Dick and Damian now sat next to each other in Bruce's study, waiting for the man to come home from work. The school had called Alfred to pick them up early, and neither had said a word during the ride to Wayne Manor.

Suddenly, Dick couldn't take the silence anymore.

"Holy unfair circumstances, Damian! Why'd you blame that on me? You know how much trouble I'm in now?" The dark-haired teen looked irate.

His counterpart simply eyed him nonchalantly and said, "Well then, you should not have challenged me if you were not prepared to take responsibility."

_Is he serious?_ Dick thought, and said, "What?" Okay, so I didn't think we'd get caught, and maybe it wasn't my best idea, but you just threw me to the lions back there."

"Yes, and your face was priceless…much as it is right now."

Dick glared, thinking _Okay, I will never consider him my brother. No way. He's a jerk. I mean, first he steps in to help me, and it seems like we're getting along. But then he goes and tosses me under the bus! As if Mr. Nye didn't already have it in for me…_

Dick's mind-rant died down just in time for him to hear Damian say, "It would have been more amusing to throw you to some actual lions, though…"

Dick glared and turned away as Damian smirked.

_I have certainly bested him,_ thought the newest child in the manor, until Dick turned back around, frowning…Well, it looked like pouting, actually.

_He's so pathetic._

"Hey-" Dick started.

"No," Damian interrupted, scowling.

"But-"

"No,"

"Let me finish a sentence!"

"You don't need to," growled Damian, scowling still, "I already told you: no getting along, no friends, and NO brothers."

Dick just smiled brightly. "I was actually going to ask you something else, but it's nice to know you're thinking along those lines."

Dick grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, "Only because you are so annoying,"

"I heard that," Dick said.

"No, you did not,"

"Yes, I did."

"What did I say?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Tt. What you going to ask me earlier?" Damian responded, rolling his eyes.

Dick hesitated, and then said, "Well, I have a few questions," which got another "Tt," from Damian. "I thought I heard you say something about being from 'The House of al Ghul'…That's not al Ghul as in, like, Ra's al Ghul, is it? 'Cuz that would be like totally funny." Dick began chuckling nervously.

Damian raised an eyebrow and said, "Just how do you find my grandfather's bloodline humorous, Grayson?"

Dick abruptly fell silent, instead blinking in confusion.

"…You're kidding right?"

"Tt. I do not kid."

At that moment, Alfred came back into the room.

"Young Masters, Master Bruce has returned home. However, he has urgent matters to attend to and will speak with you later. Master Damian, your dinner is ready." Damian scoffed and stood to walk out of the room, but halted when he heard Alfred say, "Master Dick, Master Bruce will help you with that homework now."

_What? So Father cannot spare the time to acknowledge my presence, but he deigns to assist Grayson with his studies? I must rectify this at once!_

Damian Wayne stalked off toward the kitchen with a determined stride.

* * *

><p>"Master Dick, Master Bruce will help you with that homework now."<p>

As Alfred said this, he subtly signaled Dick with his hand. Dick knew what that symbol meant.

He smiled and thought, _Dynamic Duo time!_

**A/N: So, SORRY again for the long wait. Summer's coming up, so hopefully, you wait have to wait much longer for the next chapter. I hope you'll stay with me here!**

**My family and one of my friends think that Superman is cooler than Batman. SUPERMAN. It's infuriating! Only my sister and one of my other friends seem to get the awesomeness that is Batman!**

**REVIEW and I can update faster!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Okay, yeah. I had writers' block for this chapter. Why am I getting that so much lately? It's annoying!**

**Random comment: Just realized that my Batman t-shirt is glow-in-the-dark!**

**Disclaimer: No, I don't own Batman! Why must you rub it in?**

Through the Gotham night soared a boy dressed in a red tunic, a yellow cape, and green…pixie boots and short shorts.

After getting past the asininity of the boy's outfit, onlookers would notice how swiftly he flipped and swung from the skyscrapers, laughing as he fearlessly took flight. He almost resembled a bird.

This might just be why his name was Robin.

"Quiet down," snapped his companion, a man wearing dark grey armor and a cape with a pointed cowl attached to it. On his chest rested his identifying emblem, the image of a bat.

He enforced justice and vengeance in Gotham, the city he called his own.

He was The Batman.

If you asked a random Gothamite, he or she would likely say that Batman and Robin were just urban myths, circulated by the police department to keep criminals somewhat in line and to keep kids off the streets at night. After all, why would any man dress up like a bat every night to fight criminals in a city where the average cop is corrupt, the average villain is beyond psychotic, and the average citizen is involved in some form of illicit activity anyway? Why dedicate so much energy to such a hopeless place? And _why on Earth_ would he work with an under-aged partner who ran around in short shorts?

"Oh, come on, B-man," replied Robin, as he somersaulted in a rather flashy manner and landed soundlessly beside his mentor, "Just because the world will end if you smile doesn't mean I can't do it."

Batman just glared at his young partner, which shut Robin right up.

But only for ten seconds.

"Ahem, so…Am I in trouble?"

"Yes,"

"Oh…But it was his fault!"

"Your teacher said it was you,"

"My teacher has it in for me!"

"You're being too loud again."

As Robin grumbled, Batman continued, "He's new to the school. Why would he get into a fight on his first day?"

"Because he wanted to frame me!" retorted Robin, this time whispering.

Suddenly, gunshots resounded across the Gotham Docks, and Robin went into business mode, awaiting his mentor's signal for action.

The signal was given, and the bat and bird flew into the darkness.

* * *

><p>Damian Wayne paced the length of his new bedroom.<p>

_I will show Father that I am worth so much more than Grayson. I simply need to think of a way…_

He absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair, a trait that he didn't realize he had in common with Bruce.

_Grayson is an idiot. This should not be difficult. So, why does Father bother with him?_

Damian stopped pacing suddenly as a thought struck him.

_Why does Grayson live here anyway? Mother never told me much about him, except that his past includes some sort of tragedy. I know that he is not my Father's true heir, so why does he sleep in the manor? And while I consider this, why was Grayson so confident in his supposed fighting ability? If he actually can fight, it raises some questions...And how did he know that I was speaking Arabic this morning? I would not have assumed he was intelligent enough to figure that out. Not to mention that he not only recognized the language, but translated it as well…_

Damian sat on his bed and lay back.

_Who are you, Richard Grayson?_

* * *

><p>Robin limped out of the Batmobile, being supported by Batman.<p>

"So," he said, smiling at his mentor, "All in a night's work, right, Boss?"

Batman didn't respond, lost in his thoughts. He scowled as he remembered why his young partner was limping in the first place. He'd repeatedly told the boy not to do anything rash, but sometimes, warnings went through one ear and out of the other. Robin had attempted to take on twelve thugs at once and one had gotten lucky enough to stab him in the leg with a knife. The wound wasn't alarmingly deep, but Robin wouldn't have gotten hurt if he'd been there to protect him.

When Batman came out of his thoughts, he realized that Robin had been talking the whole time.

"-right, Bruce?"

"What was that, chum?" the man asked, pulling down his cowl to reveal the face of Bruce Wayne.

Dick sighed in exasperation as he pulled off his domino mask.

"I was asking you what we should do about Damian. He's bound to get suspicious with us going on patrol every night."

"Yes, I've already considered that,"

"Really? What's the plan?"

"You're not going on patrol until further notice."

Dick's jaw dropped open, and his blue eyes begged for Bruce to be joking.

Bruce sighed, turning his attention to the giant computer in the Cave rather than his charge's face. He couldn't ground Robin when Dick was looking at him with those eyes.

"It would be less suspicious," he explained without turning around, "I can always use late nights at the office or charity functions as an excuse for not being here. Your absences can't be explained as easily,"

"Why not just say that I go to the functions and stuff with you?"

"First, it wouldn't make sense for me to bring my ward with me _everywhere_ I go. Second, Damian would want to come as well."

Dick sighed heavily. He knew Bruce was right. And he supposed Gotham needed Batman more than it needed Robin. He just hated being benched. Robin was his outlet, his form of freedom and self-expression. It was the name his mother gave him, and even spending one night as plain old Dick Grayson made him feel horrible. Plus, now he had to deal with his new, possibly demonic brother. Dick decided to argue his case one more time.

"You need me to watch your back!" He hadn't meant to shout, but his emotions on the subject were making it impossible not to. His mentor could get seriously injured without him. Bruce could die…

"I don't need it," Bruce said tonelessly, letting Dick know that even without the cowl, he was speaking to Batman again.

Bruce slightly cringed at how that came out. Of course he needed Dick's partnership. The boy meant more to him than he could explain. But he wasn't about to take back what he'd said because Dick would only use that to win the argument.

Dick was silent for a moment. Trying not to notice how close those words came to the letter he'd left Bruce when he'd run away at age nine. After Bruce took away Robin the first time.

"_You don't want a partner. And you don't need a son. I'm sorry I failed you."_

Bruce continued to type, and Dick took that as his signal to leave. He turned away from his mentor/almost-father and focused on hiding two things: his limp and the tears in his eyes.

**A/N: Sorry this is up so late. I lost internet access. I know, I'm always late. Kill the author.**

**Readers: YEAH, KILL THE AUTHOR!**

…**You guys know I was kidding, right…? Right? GUYS? How about you just review instead? Okay? Okay. Review, and don't kill me!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: The Batman characters are owned by DC Comics.**

**Damian: I am owned by no one!**

**Me: Is that why you're a fictional character starring in my fanfiction story?**

**Damian: …**

**Dick: You just got owned!**

**Me: Please no puns…**

As Dick walked down the hallway in his pajamas, he tried to come up with a plan.

_Maybe I should just avoid Damian…No, I doubt that'll work. How can I avoid someone that obnoxious?_

"Yes, I understand…No, Mother! I can accomplish this on my own!"

Dick stopped, eyebrows raised, beside Damian's bedroom door.

_Damian's talking to someone…His mom?_

This got Dick's suspicions going again. No one had told him anything about Damian's mother…Now that he thought about it, why hadn't the woman been with Damian when he first arrived at the manor? Maybe she hated Bruce and refused to see him…But is she hated Bruce so much, why would she let her son live with him? Maybe it was mandated by court….No, Dick would have heard if there was some kind of Wayne custody case going on…Maybe…

"Father does not suspect. No one does."

Damian's words brought Dick out of his speculations. His eyes narrowed.

_Bruce doesn't suspect what?_

"Of course, Mother…I-"

Damian was apparently cut off. After a few more seconds of silence, Dick heard a heavy sigh through the door.

"Goodbye to you as well,"

Dick's anger ebbed a little at the dejected tone that Damian's voice had adopted.

Instead, he was left even more confused than before.

What was that about?

He silently made his way back to his own room.

_Who are you, Damian Wayne?_

* * *

><p>Damian watched the clock intently. The call he expected from his mother was to be received at exactly 2:47 am. Talia would not tolerate anything short of promptness, and Damian could not tolerate his mother's disappointment.<p>

The phone vibrated, and Damian's hand shot out to grab it.

"Hello, Mother," he answered with confidence he did not feel.

_"No pleasantries, Damian,"_ she curtly reprimanded.

Damian winced. Why had he said that? Someone else might attribute uncharacteristic behavior to nerves.

But Damian Ibn al Xu'ffasch al Ghul Wayne did not get nervous.

_…I truly need a shorter name._

_"Where are you?_" Talia asked.

"My new quarters,"

_"Why? I told you to find a secure location."_

Damian winced and prepared his excuse.

_This is going to sound utterly inane._

"The butler will not let me out of his sight unless I am in my room," he quickly explained, "I also found sophisticated surveillance devices throughout the estate…And I do not believe Father trusts me enough to allow me to leave the premises with both an explanation and watchful company."

There was silence on the other line for a few seconds before Talia spoke again.

_"Yes, Bruce is such a paranoid man…Very well, this shall be remedied soon."_

Damian restrained his relieved sigh.

"Yes, I understand." As he said this, he saw Dick's moving shadow under the door. He reminded himself to be quieter, lest Grayson should decide to eavesdrop.

_"I'm sending a few shadows to help you."_

His attention snapped back at the words. She didn't believe he could do it on his own? _NoNoNo_...

"No, Mother! I can accomplish this on my own!"

_"Silence, Damian. If your father already suspects you, I refuse to take chances."_

"Father does not suspect. No one does," he argued, jaw clenching. What was she doing? What was _he_ doing? He just couldn't believe how he always managed to make things worse for himself.

_"Enough! You are my child, are you not?"_ Her voice was cold. It was always cold, and sharp-edged.

"Of course, Mother..."

_"This mission is not a playground wherein you may satisfy whatever folly occupies your young mind. Understood?"_

"I-"

_"Shiva will arrive in two days."_

The phone clicked off.

"...Goodbye to you as well," he whispered. Then he cringed at how emotional - and weak - he had let himself sound.

_She knows I hate Shiva. She knows that!_

Damian was so busy brooding (no paternity test required) that he soon forgot about the shadow behind the door.


End file.
